


Back to 2025

by stalltherain



Series: Ones You Love [5]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Character Death Fix, F/M, Female Friendship, Fix-It, Friendship/Love, Garcia Flynn Deserves Better, Holding Hands, Hugs, Love, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Selective Obliviousness, Selfless Love, Shipper on Deck, Sisters, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stalltherain/pseuds/stalltherain
Summary: After delivering a message to attempt to change Garcia's fate, Lucy returns to an unexpectedly altered present. (Part 5/7)
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Series: Ones You Love [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849153
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	Back to 2025

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Reference to implied suicidal thoughts.
> 
> Thanks to SetFiresJust2WatchThemBurn for the beta.
> 
> Will post research notes in the comments.

With the usual gut-wrenching pop, Lucy, Rufus, and Jiya arrive at the bunker in 2025. Eager to discover whether Garcia has returned as planned, Lucy rips away her seat belt and flings off her shoulder straps. Before the lifeboat door is fully open, she rushes onto the ramp and finds only the top of Connor’s head above the silver display.

"Is Flynn back?”

Connor cranes his neck above the screen. "Lucy, were you on the maintenance jump?” He blinks. "Oh, of course, you were. Weird. I felt some kind of reverse deja vu for a second." Connor starts typing but doesn’t skip a beat. "Sorry again that we kept you from the party. There are some things to finish up here, but we’ll meet you at Amy’s place."

"What?” Lucy halts at the top of the steps. "Amy’s place?"

"Yeah.” He leans to the side of the display until she’s in view. "Did you forget your nephew’s birthday party?"

"Nephew?” Lucy searches back and forth between Connor and Rufus, who is emerging from the lifeboat door. "Oh my God. Amy!”

"Yeah…” Connor examines her face. "Lucy, are you alright? Feeling disoriented?” When Lucy only blinks at him, Connor groans and falls backward in his seat. "Don’t tell me the inertial stabilizers are off again.”

Lucy shakes out of her confusion. "No, no. I’m...” A smile overtakes her face. "I’m great!” Lucy flies down the steps and into the hall.

"Lucy?” Rufus’ voice trails behind her. He turns to Jiya, stepping onto the ramp behind him. "Why is Amy back?”

In her temporary bedroom, Lucy flings blankets and scatters odds and ends. She opens the lockers on the wall, searching for her phone. It’s nowhere to be found. She runs back to the common area behind where Rufus, Jiya, and Connor are huddled around the computers. On the coffee table in front of the TV, she spots her keys and phone beside her jacket. Scooping them all up, she returns to the hallway and searches her contacts. On the screen, Amy grins at her with arms spread wide on a cliff next to the ocean. Lucy beams. It’s the first time she's seen her sister’s face in years outside of the tiny photo she used to carry in a locket around her neck. 

Lucy hits the call button and waits for three rings.

"Hey.” At the sound of Amy’s voice, Lucy stops and braces herself against the wall with one hand. "Lucy, when are you getting here?"

Lucy blinks back moisture. "I’m on my way. What’s the address?”

A hint of annoyance seeps through Amy’s voice. "It’s at my house.”

"Right… I guess I have that.” Hopefully Amy's address is on her phone.

"Uh… Yeah. By the way, your husband is the only reason I’m not pissed at you right now. He’s picking up the cake and piñata for me like you were supposed to. I hate to ask him to do more, so... could _you_ ask him to also pick up some beer while he’s there? We drank most of it at poker the other night."

"Sure.” The tears won’t stay at bay. Losing her sister was hard enough without losing all trace of her existence. No videos. No photos. No mementos. Only fading memories of a voice that no longer exactly matches the one on the phone. "Amy?”

"Yeah?”

"I love you.”

"Love you, too. I’ll see you soon.”

Lucy stares at the ended call screen. Emma claimed she’d made certain resurrecting Amy was impossible. Could Lucy really have accidentally stumbled into saving her? Is this too good to be true? Lucy straightens her shoulders and wipes away the tears. 

Amy had asked her to do something. She replays the conversation. Oh right, Wyatt. Lucy searches her contacts then texts, _Amy asked if you can pick up beer for the party. Tell the girls I love them._

Lucy slips her arms into her jacket and sprints toward her car. When she gets to the parking area, her SUV isn’t there. She checks the keys in her hands. They aren’t hers. Lucy decides whichever friend’s keys she took will forgive her for borrowing their vehicle. She hits the unlock button, and the lights flash on a blue hatchback she’s never seen before, presumably Connor’s _._

As she drives away, Rufus calls to tell her that the others are checking the logs to find an explanation for Amy’s return. Lucy only half listens. The others can do what they need, but she isn’t concerned with the reason, only that her sister is real again. 

###

Lucy stops in front of the only house on the street with balloons on the mailbox and leaps out of her car. She hurries to the open front door and calls her sister’s name as she enters the foyer. A familiar voice responds from around the corner.

Lucy steps into the kitchen and almost bursts into tears. There is her baby sister. Her best friend. The girl who bawled in her lap because Bobby Stiller broke her heart in seventh grade. The free spirit who followed her passion even though it didn’t meet their mother’s definition of success. The friend who’d encouraged Lucy to do the same. There are ten years of her sister’s life that Lucy has missed, but that playful spark in her eyes is unmistakably Amy.

"Hey!” Knife in hand, Amy chops stalks of celery then gestures at the containers of snacks on the counter. "Can you help me get this stuff plated for outside?” 

Lucy rushes across the room, and Amy barely has time to drop the knife before her sister grabs her and buries her face in her hair. 

"Oh my god, Lucy! Did something happen?”

Lucy pulls back and gently strokes her sister’s shoulders. She drinks in the sight. Amy’s amber eyes. Her shining strawberry hair. The dusting of freckles on her cheek. Lucy blinks away tears and beams. "Yes, something amazing.”

Amy chuckles. "Are you going to tell me about it?”

"I will. But right now, I want to hear about you. How are you? What have you been up to?”

Amy picks up the knife and begins chopping again. "Besides figuring out the guestlist for a five-year-old’s birthday party, the usual.”

Lucy notes the ring on her finger. "Obviously you’re married. Who is he? What’s he like?” 

Amy hesitates in her cutting and scrutinizes her sister. "Lucy, you know Vince.”

"Right! Of course, I do. I’m just being nostalgic.” She claps her hands then reaches for a bag of chips. "Why don’t I actually help you with all this?”

Amy smirks. "That's what I thought you were here for." She leans over to the side of the kitchen island to eyeball Lucy. "By the way, what is this look? I love it, but you should have told me.” Amy steps back from the counter and gestures to her jeans and sweater, a stark contrast to her sister’s flowing dress and heels that she’d worn to fit into 1934. "Show me up, why don’t you?”

Lucy pours a bag of chips into a large empty bowl. "Yeah, right. I’m completely overdressed. It's a long story, and I’m borrowing some of your clothes before anyone else gets here.”

Amy points toward the top of Lucy’s head, where stray locks stick out, pulled free during her encounter with Garcia in the past. "You should fix your hair. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were just...” Amy finishes with a raise of her eyebrows and grin.

Lucy snorts and pulls the pins from her hair. "No, definitely not.”

"Duh. He was here with me, but don’t act like I don’t know what you two get up to when you sneak off.”

Amy sets the knife down and picks up the vegetable tray. Lucy follows her through the living room to outside. A quarter of the yard is occupied by an inflatable castle with a patchwork of colors. Next to it are red and yellow cones with rings. Beside those are two wooden ramps painted with lime green dragons; wings spread wide and swirling tails. Each has a hole in the dragon’s open red mouth for bean bags to fall through. Across the lush grass, chairs and folding tables are set up near an unlit grill. 

As Lucy sets a bowl on the buffet table, a sandy-haired man with an oval face finishes unfolding a chair then crosses the yard to pull her in for a hug. Assuming this must be Vince, Lucy returns the gesture as they exchange hellos.

"So Lucy, how is the foundation?”

"The what?”

"Your non-profit.” When Lucy’s confusion doesn’t fade, he adds, "‘History Something’ or ‘Something History’. What was it that they do... Teach kids stuff they leave out at school?”

Lucy takes a step back. "That’s what I do?” She blinks and searches his face. When his eyes narrow in confusion, she forces a smile. "I mean. Yes, that’s what I do. It sounds grea— It’s going great.”

Vince continues to squint at her but then nods and begins tapping the table next to him. 

A boy’s voice breaks the silence. "Aunt Lucy! Jump with me!”

Lucy’s head whips around to find a child standing within the yellow mesh wall of the bouncing castle.

Vince seems like he’s about to tell the boy no, but Lucy’s face lights up. "Absolutely!”

As Lucy kicks off her heels, she cleverly outwits the five-year-old to discover his name is Jonah. Lucy climbs inside, and the boy calls his mother to bounce with them. The three launch themselves into the air, up and down off the teal castle floor; hair bobbing and Lucy’s dress floating with every leap. Jonah tries a front flip but lands on his face. He giggles as he scrambles upright. Amy throws herself backward then bounces to her feet. She grabs Lucy’s hands, and they leap in circles under golden sunbeams like they’re both ten years old again, carefree and excited about the possibilities of the world. 

With his arms spread wide, Jonah launches himself at his aunt and mother. The three topple to the pillowed castle floor. Lucy laughs then rolls onto her back and marvels at the pastel blue sky dotted with wispy puffs of white. She spots a monarch’s copper wings steering in loops across the blue canvas. Inhaling the crisp air, Lucy relaxes into the soft cushion, content to just occupy the same space as her sister.

"Hey!” Wyatt’s voice rings through the yard as he emerges from inside the house. Through the mesh castle wall, Amy sits up and greets him. He holds up a case of inexpensive light beer. "I heard you wanted this.”

Amy scoots across the castle floor and slides down the inflatable ramp. "You did?”

"Yeah. Lucy asked me to bring it.”

"Oh.” With a raised eyebrow, Amy glances at her sister who is also making her way out of the bounce house. Amy thanks and hugs Wyatt then carries the case of beer to the cooler.

Wyatt turns to Lucy with outstretched arms. "Hey, how’s my favorite historian?” 

Lucy freezes. Not that she and Wyatt are completely at odds, but even before she filed for divorce, they weren’t on hugging terms. 

Wyatt raises his hands higher. "Are you coming in here or leaving me hanging?”

Lucy pushes aside her shock and steps into his embrace. It would be nice to get back to friends at some point. If Wyatt is willing to make the effort, Lucy isn’t going to object. As she pulls out of the hug, Lucy searches behind him, expecting to see their daughters. "Where are the girls?” 

Wyatt’s brow furrows. "What girls?"

Lucy shoots him an unamused glare. "Amy and Flynn."

"Huh?" His pupils shift around the yard, landing on Amy before they return to Lucy. "Is that a joke? You mentioned it in the text too, but I don’t get it."

A tightness grips Lucy’s chest. _Don’t panic._ With Amy alive in this timeline, she and Wyatt may have given their daughters different names. "The twins."

"Sorry, Lucy.” He scratches his face. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

Lucy’s face turns white. "Our daughters?”

Wyatt shifts his feet and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he chuckles. "I don’t have kids, Lucy. You don't either as far as I know.”

The words slam into Lucy, nearly knocking her legs out from under her.

Wyatt steps forward and braces a hand on her arm. "Are you okay?”

"Yeah.” She waves him away. Muttering an excuse, she staggers inside, finds the first open door, and locks the bathroom behind her. With unsteady hands, she fishes her phone from her jacket and dials Rufus. As she waits for an answer, Lucy paces the tiny room. 

"Hey.” Rufus' voice comes through after a few rings. "Crazy development here! There are jumps for _years_ after we stopped. We definitely changed more than we meant to.” Rufus doesn’t pause for air. "I'm not sure how much yet, but I Googled myself, and I have a TED Talk! I’m like the new Connor Mason, except he’s more of an Elon Musk type— minus being a douchebag, and I’m more of a… a... wow, there _is not_ a flattering tech billionaire to compare myself to. Not a surprise with only a bunch of rich white guys to choose from. I guess if I had to, I’d go with Bill Gates, but I'm still not a fan of that comparison. Besides, I have way better style. Nevermind. Scrap that whole concept. The point is people know who I am here. It feels kinda good.” 

Lucy leans against the sink and gulps air, trying to loosen the vice that's gripping her chest as Rufus’ voice hums in her ear. 

"Lucy, what about you? Did you find out anything about Amy?"

"They’re gone!”

A pause. "What? What’s gone?”

"My kids. Wyatt said we don’t have kids. We have to fix it.” The line remains silent as Lucy paces to the door. She stops and spins. "Rufus, we have to go back to 1934 and stop me before I talk to Flynn.”

"We can’t do that. A third trip to the same time could destabilize the lifeboat. We don’t notice the effects, but it’s still being pulled apart just like us. Multiple overlaps could compound it. If even one component was affected, we might not be able to get back.”

"Then think of something else, Rufus. Please.”

"We will, but first we need to understand how it changed. We’ll keep looking.”

"I’ll come back and help.”

"No. We’ve got it. Maybe you can find out more there.”

Lucy hangs up. Collecting herself in the mirror, she remembers the need to change out of her 1930s getup. She searches for her sister's closet, and once she swaps the out-of-place dress and heels for a pair of jeans, she returns to the living room. Sitting just inside the glass door to outside sits a three-foot-high paper mache knight on horseback that hadn’t been there earlier. 

As she continues toward the open doorway, a tall figure with his back to her comes into view. Lucy’s feet slow and her breath halts as her heart pounds. She studies the distinctly familiar frame; dark blue jeans, sweater with sleeves pushed up on muscular forearms and strong hands, slightly tousled dark hair. _Not possible_. He tilts his head, and it is indeed Garcia Flynn, alive and well in the afternoon sun; stubbled face and glorious smile.

Lucy steps into the sun and the sweetness of hickory smoke, watching the group as she floats across the yard.

Garcia clasps his hand on Wyatt’s shoulder and leans in, laughing. Wyatt grins and smacks him on the arm. Amy tosses her head back, waving her hands in front of her in a mock signal to stop. Lucy has never even imagined this sight. Three of the people she cared about most but lost in different ways, together and unmistakably happy. Like one of her nightmares lived in reverse. Utter devastation then, at breakneck speed, a reason for complete joy. 

Garcia turns as Lucy approaches. "There you are." His face lights up as he wraps an arm around her. He places a kiss on her head. Lucy closes her eyes and relaxes into his warmth. When he pulls away, she can’t stop smiling and adoring Garcia’s face. 

He tilts his head and squints. "What?"

"It’s good to see you.”

Garcia’s eyes shine. "It’s always good to see you.”

"Ugh…” Amy groans and tosses her head back. "Lucy, you always do this. Stop fawning over your husband for like... a _minute_.”

Lucy’s jaw drops and her heart stammers ahead three beats. "My husband!” 

Her eyes dart from Garcia to Wyatt then back to Garcia. She had been too preoccupied with the obvious to notice the small differences. Now, the pieces click into place. The team had planned her message in 1934 precisely to prevent changes to the timeline. Specific instructions with no details that would tip him off about Jessica’s betrayal. Assuming that, as Rufus put it, _since Flynn’s body was still found in 2012 in the timeline created by killing Jessica, the paradox must have resolved itself with him still needing to kill her._ Lucy was supposed to tell Garcia to jump to 2025 instead of sending the ship back after he went off alone to play cowboy. 

But when the moment came, Lucy had forgotten everything except Garcia Flynn. She’d gotten the message wrong. She can’t even remember what exactly she said, but she’s pretty sure she hadn’t given him the date. Whatever she told him, maybe the message hadn’t even mattered. Their kiss could have influenced anything that Garcia did from that point. Maybe in this timeline, he didn’t even go to 2012.

Lucy plasters on a smile and grabs Garcia's hand. "Excuse me. I need to talk to my husband alone.” 

Amy and Wyatt exchange suspicious glances as Lucy leads Garcia across the yard. 

Amy calls out behind them, "Lucy, remember this is a children’s party!”

Lucy pulls Garcia inside and into her sister’s room. She closes the door behind her and turns to him. "I need to tell you something. Promise not to freak out?”

"Of course. What is it?” He takes her hand, then his head tilts, and his expression goes blank. "You’re not my Lucy.” 

"How… how did you know?”

His eyes remain fixed on the diamond glittering in the sunlight from the open window. "That’s not the ring I gave you. You’re her. Kennedy. What are you doing here?" He studies her, then hurt sears his eyes, and his hand slips from hers. "Wait… If you’re from… I don’t understand. Lucy wouldn't go back to Wyatt. They would never…”

"What? No! No, that’s not what’s happening… Ugh! This damned thing...” She tugs at the ring, and pops it off her finger, flinging it to the floor. "I’m not married to Wyatt anymore, and I’m not from the future this time. I went to 1934 to save you. Everything was supposed to be the same when I got back, but I screwed up. Now the timeline is completely different.”

He scans her and takes a step back. "So what about my Lucy?”

Her silence answers the question. Both know from experience the last person to travel forward replaces the one that previously existed in that timeline. 

He staggers across the room and sinks onto the bed.

Lucy settles next to him, wishing she could provide comfort but careful not to intrude into his space. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” 

"I know, Lucy. I’m not upset with you. It’s just that for a long time, I worried the ring meant that you… I mean Lucy would go back to Wyatt. Once we were together for a few years, I knew without a doubt she wasn’t going anywhere. At that point, I just assumed you were like the journal, a remnant of another timeline. I should have seen this coming, but I didn’t.”

Garcia’s head drops into his hands. She watches him, elbows on his knees, eyes hidden. The seconds tick by in slow motion as Lucy wishes she could wrap her arms around him, beg for forgiveness and tell him she’ll do anything to bring back the woman he married. She slides her palm across the bed toward him, hesitating at an invisible line. 

To her relief, Garcia tilts his head to meet her eyes and covers her hand with his. "What do we do now?”

Lucy musters up an apologetic half-smile. "I need to bring my daughters back.”

He winces, drawing in his lip as his eyes clamp shut. When he reopens them, his face is strained with regret. "That’s what you didn’t want to change?”

"But if there’s a way to keep this for you too...”

He shakes his head. "We both know there’s not. Both timelines can’t exist at once.” His fingers tighten around her hand. "It’s okay, Lucy. This is my fault. I knew you were with Wyatt and didn’t want to change that. I should have tried harder to make sure it stayed the same. I’ll help you get your daughters back.”

They sit in silence on the edge of the bed, facing the incoming sunlight with her hand in his. Lucy, wishing she could give the man next to her back the happiness he deserves. Garcia, willing to do anything to protect the happiness of the woman he loves; willing to risk his life again to ensure it. As much as he wants to jump back in time then return to his own Lucy, he could never bring himself to go through with it. He could never intentionally hurt Lucy— any Lucy. His wife would never want him to either. She would never forgive him if he let her children become lost like Amy once was.

After several seconds, Lucy’s eyelashes lift toward him to reveal saddened, heavy eyes otherwise identical to his wife’s. He resists the urge to wrap his arms around her and draw her close in comfort. "So what do we do?"

Lucy hasn’t put any thought into a plan. Withdrawing her hand from his, she ruffles her fingers through her hair. "I guess I need to know what happened in your timeline.” She pulls her legs onto the bed to face him. "Maybe if I find out when you two got together, I can change it.” 

"Well...” He exhales slowly as he shifts on the bed and settles into a position facing her. "That damned journal was actually right. Almost. After the Titanic, we ended up curled up just like it said. I was still freezing. Lucy was on the other sofa, a ball of blankets with her hair a mess and her nose still red. She was staring at the empty TV screen. I wanted to hold her and make everything better, but I knew I couldn’t. She looked so beautiful but so lost and lonely…” He pauses when the memory reminds him of the woman in front of him. His hand lands on her knee as he searches Lucy’s face, and his eyes lock with hers.

Lucy fights a rush of electricity across her skin, denying the effect of Garcia’s eyes as she leans into his touch.

Garcia’s tongue unconsciously sneaks out as he blinks, pulls his hand away, and discards his thoughts about his not-wife. "So um… While I was watching her and reminding myself she was meant to go back to Wyatt, she practically threw herself at me over the coffee table.” Garcia’s eyes sparkle as he chuckles. "It wasn’t the least bit graceful, but luckily I caught her. She grabbed the blanket around my shoulders and...” He notices Lucy bite her lower lip, and he clears his throat then shifts his eyes toward the window. "You get the idea. That was five years ago. I don’t know if that helps.”

Lucy swallows and rubs her palms on her legs, trying not to replay the words from the journal in her head. 

_So I kissed him back... Again. And again._

_That night, I felt safe, and protected and loved._

Garcia glances back at her, his eyes an opposing current against her will to reclaim her daughters. Striking and turbulent. A maelstrom dragging her in like an ancient explorer swept in by the sea. Lucy jumps off the bed to escape the pull. As she clears her thoughts, she leans against the chest of drawers, running her hand up and down the length of her arm. 

"So before that, the… uh… timeline might have been the same. We should just compare what was different.” Lucy ticks through a list of missions, and he acknowledges each. "What about Sutter’s Mill? My Garcia left alone to take out Jessica.”

His eyes flash with recognition then become haunted. "He stayed, didn’t he?”

"Yeah. How did you know?” 

"I almost didn't come back either.” He wrings his hands and searches the floor. "After Rufus died, I saw you with Wyatt, and I thought you went to him when you were hurting, not me.”

"That’s not what happened. He came to me.”

"I know that now, but at the time, I remembered what the journal said. And I remembered the wedding ring. I assumed it all meant you would go back to him no matter what. After everything I had done, I thought there was no place for me. I didn’t deserve happiness, but you did. I decided to go to the last place I used to be happy and see my family. It felt like all I deserved.” He rubs his hand across his brow. "So after I shot Jessica, I set the autopilot. I was ready to jump out, but while I stood at the door, I remembered the woman from the future who told me to come back and made me feel like I deserved something better.” Garcia contemplates the woman in front of him. "I always assumed it was just survival instinct. That if it hadn’t been you, it would have been something else that kept me in that lifeboat. But it seems you saved my life. You gave me back hope.”

Even from a distance, Lucy still feels his pull, the temptation to let herself cross the room and fall into him. Fearing she wouldn't return, she strides to the other side of the room. She stops at the window and surveys outside. Children have arrived and are running around the yard. Jonah and two others play with foam swords. Vince fishes a drink out of the adults-only cooler and hands it to one of the parents. Amy flips burgers on the grill.

"What about Amy?”

"What do you mean? You didn't save her?”

With her eyes still fixed on her sister, Lucy shakes her head.  
  
"Oh, I’m sorry.”

"How did you bring her back?” Lucy resolutely focuses outside, fighting the pull to step into him as Garcia joins her at the other side of the window. 

"I don’t know exactly. Emma did it.”

"What?” Stunned out of his vortex, Lucy turns toward him. "Didn’t Emma die in North Korea?”

His head jerks back. "No. As far as I know, she’s still alive. It’s hard to remember every mission that long ago, but I don’t think we saw her in North Korea.” He looks up and runs his hand through his hair. "Yeah, we never figured out why she jumped there.”

"In my timeline, she just wanted to kill us. She hired a pilot who tried to crash our helicopter.” 

"Really? That seems mundane for Emma.”

"I guess I don’t actually know. The pilot didn’t announce it as he nose-dived, but I assumed Emma must have made him do it.”

Garcia shrugs. "You’re probably right. I remember the helicopter. It seemed suspicious waiting alone. You three wanted to take the flight, but I didn’t trust it. We disagreed long enough that a villager drove by, and we compromised by hitching a ride in the back of his truck. The whole way to the next village, Wyatt wouldn’t shut up about how warm that helicopter would have been.” Garcia gets a wicked grin. "I can’t wait to rub it in that I wasn’t just paranoid and pessimistic.”

"But aren’t you two friends? You seemed like it outside.”

"Oh, yeah. We are. That’s why I’m going to rub it in. He was a complete jerk on that mission.”

"Really? You two didn’t get along any better after… you know… Jessica? My Wyatt was grateful he didn’t have to do it.”

"Sure, Wyatt was grateful, but it didn’t just wipe away the animosity." Garcia bobs his head side to side. "Actually, there was a pretty bad period where it got worse. Let’s just say our friendship was not entirely an uphill journey. After a point, it was less about you and more about his guilt over Jessica.” Garcia leans his shoulder against the window sill. "I should give him credit. He wasn’t completely awful on that mission. He thanked me while he helped disarm explosives on the truck at the port.”

"What? You got a truck? We couldn’t get a truck! You just disarmed the explosives? That’s it? How?”

Garcia grins. "Lucy, did you think when I was planning to steal the mothership, I was just gathering henchmen? Remember there were a few things I tried to blow up, so I know about plastic explosives. Since the Navy wants to blow themselves up even less than I did, their demolition explosives aren’t booby-trapped or anything. Disarming the C3 was basically the same as I'd practiced with C4. Just a matter of carefully removing the detonator.”

Lucy’s face scrunches. "Why didn’t Wyatt know that? He disarmed your Hindenburg bomb.”

"The way I remember it,” he smirks, "the Hindenburg blew up.”

"Wyatt said that was from a gunshot.”

Garcia raises his eyebrows. "Guess we’ll never know.”

"He wouldn’t have lied.”

"No, he wouldn’t lie.” Garcia raises his hands in front of himself. "Who knows. Could have been a change to his timeline when we went back without him. All I can tell you is that in North Korea, my Wyatt didn’t know how to remove a detonator.”

"So you got out without Denise bringing the mothership and Emma?”

"It wasn’t entirely smooth. The military shot at us, but with everything rigged to explode, they couldn’t follow. We barely made it before the Chinese, but yeah, we got out. No Emma.”

"If Denise didn’t take her prisoner, how did you convince her to bring Amy back? Before she died, she claimed she could, but I didn’t believe her.”

"She needed our help. She had the time machine, but her ragtag team had a mole that hacked the mothership. When Emma made a jump to the past, the mole left behind a computer system that could track the mothership just like we could from the lifeboat. Wherever Emma went after the American Revolution, Rittenhouse had mercenaries on her trail... According to her anyway. The deal was if Emma brought Amy back and gave us the mothership, Agent Christopher would help her go into hiding. She must have been telling the truth because we made a jump to follow her to 1939, and Amy was alive when we came back.”

"But everyone except Emma was dead or in jail. Who was she hiding from?"

"Your mother and great-grandfather.”

"What?” Lucy’s eyelids flicker, and her spine goes straight. "No. Emma killed them in Chinatown. I watched my mother die.”

"Once Chinatown never happened, everyone who died there came back. Rufus, your mother, and Nicholas Keynes.”

"No.” She steps away from Garcia shaking her head. She spins back to face him, gesturing wildly as if trying to grasp his words. "That can’t be right. My mother was killed before the change to the timeline. There should be no difference between this timeline and the one I left.” Lucy’s mouth falls open as the full meaning of her words hits her. She sinks onto the bed. "Oh my god. Has my mother been alive this whole time?”

Garcia crosses his arms and leans against the window frame. "We didn’t find out they were alive for over a year. Emma went around thinking she had full reign, but your mother and Nicholas were working from the shadows again. If you got the ship away from Emma that soon, your mother may not have had a reason to come out.”

"My mother is still alive. They've just been rebuilding. If they got their hands on Connor's research..." Lucy leans forward with her elbows on her knees. She peers up at Garcia, who appears as only a silhouette bathed in sunlight. "Where is my mother now?"

"Prison. Nicholas, too.” He steps out of the harsh light to join her on the bed. "Lucy and Amy used to visit.”

"Does Amy know why she’s there?”

"Some. She doesn’t know about the time machine.”

"What do you mean used to visit?”

"Your mother kept trying to indoctrinate them both. They stopped going."

Lucy huffs and bitter words escape her lips. "She was still trying on her deathbed, so why should prison stop her?”

Garcia places a comforting hand on her shoulder. Lucy leans into him, and he slides his arm around her. She rests her head against him, nestling her cheek into soft, warm fabric. Her worries slip beneath a stratum of contentment and safety, of stability, and feeling like he would give up everything to protect her. A feeling she’d missed since the night her mother shattered her world. Even in this reality that’s not her own, she feels more grounded and solid than she has since that moment; like she’s finally found her home.

"I didn’t even try to go back for you. If we’d have tried sooner…” _everything would be better_. Lucy rubs her brow and buries her face against his sweater, hating herself for both her past choices and for letting her unfinished thought fleet across her mind. The cost for this reality is her children. Would she really be willing to let them go? For history? For the world? For Amy? For him? Lucy pushes her hair away from her face and jumps to her feet. "How do I justify saving my daughters? Even if it means Rittenhouse could get their hands on another time machine?” Her back slumps against the window. "Does it make me a monster if I still want to?"

He leans forward from his position on the bed. "Lucy, you saw what I was willing to do to save Iris. I would have burned the world for her. You’re not a monster."

"But eventually you saw the damage you were doing and let go. Why should I be different? Rittenhouse is defeated here. Amy is alive. You're alive. Wyatt is happy. Rufus even seems to like this timeline better. How do I justify ruining it all to save my daughters?” Lucy’s head falls back against the glass. "I don’t know what’s worse. The part of me that wants to save them or the part that wants to stay here with you and Amy. I hate that I could see myself happy here.” She turns and leans into the window frame, watching the celebration outside. "Maybe having to let them go is my punishment. Maybe it’s what I deserve."

"Lucy...” Garcia stands. She faces him, and they step toward each other, stopping in the middle of the room. "If you want to stay, I'm here for you.” He pushes her hair behind her ear. His hand comes to rest on her shoulder. "You saved my life, and I love you for that. Part of you is even my Lucy, but we've lived different lives for seven years. I’m no longer the man you’re in love with any more than you're my wife.”

Lucy takes a step back. "That's not what I meant. I’m not in love with him.”

"Lucy, I don’t want to be that guy who tells you how you feel but look at who you’re talking to. I think I have a lot to base it on."

"It's really not like that."

With a grin threatening to crack his lips, he narrows his eyes at her. "In 1934, do you know why I realized immediately you weren’t my Lucy, but today, I couldn’t tell you apart from her?”

"Because now we’re the same age?”  
  
He chuckles. "No, that's definitely not it. It's because you look at me the same way my wife does now.”

Lucy tucks her thumbs in her back pocket and tilts her head. "According to you."

"Well… there are other things, too.”

"Like?”

"For one…” Garcia’s eyes tease her as his lips curve into a knowing grin. He pushes her hair off her shoulder, exposing her skin. He leans near her ear, and whispers, "I was there for that kiss.”

His breath tickles her neck, halting the air in her throat. A wash of fire runs from her toes to her cheeks. She closes her eyes and rocks on the balls of her feet toward him; he leans back, leaving her blinking back at him.

His tongue sneaks out of his mouth then he smiles. "Also, the woman I married told me your secrets. I know you thought about kissing me the first night we stayed up drinking.”

Lucy’s mouth drops open. "That's not true." He raises an eyebrow, and she rolls her eyes. "Okay. Maybe for a second."

"A second?”

"Okay.” Lucy turns her head and fidgets with the hair at the nape of her neck. "Maybe a couple seconds… a few times.”

When her eyelashes flick back up at him, he shoots her a smug grin. Lucy narrows her eyes and tilts her head. "Wait. The first night? There were more?”

His eyes shine. "Oh. Many more. Eventually ones with lots of kissing.” 

Lucy sucks in her lower lip. "Fine, I admit it. You're attractive. That doesn't mean I'm in love with you… or him or any other Garcia. Before the last few weeks, I hadn't even seen him for seven years. He was dead. It's not like people fall in love after the other person dies.”

"If that’s true, have you considered you already were in love with him before then?"

"Did the other me tell you that, too?"

"Maybe. Interesting that you think so." 

Lucy shoots him a glare but begrudgingly admits to herself that he makes a valid point. A few actually. But that one in particular. After his death, she completely gave up. On him, on Amy, on her dreams. Instead, she trudged the path laid out by her mother. The very thing she swore to herself she would never do. She just walked away from Amy, her very reason for fighting. Would she have really reacted so drastically if she hadn't developed feelings for Garcia before she lost him? And had he and his family become part of her reason too?

"Okay, maybe I'm willing to consider I'm in love with Garcia."

"Maybe you'll consider it? Bold."

Lucy feels the impulse to grab him and kiss the smug grin off his face, but she stops herself. He's not quite the right Garcia. Certainly, he has an effect on her; if he kissed her right now, she would be gone and might decide to stay here forever. But it wouldn't be the same. Maybe the fact that she recognizes the distinction proves his point. And maybe that she would consider staying in this reality even for another version of Garcia proves it even more.

"You're right."

"I know. If there’s anyone I know, it’s you.”

She crosses her arms. "You don’t have to be smug about it.”

His eyes spark then the smile slips from his lips. "My Lucy is gone, but your Garcia is back in 2012. We could both stay here and mourn for the people we love. I have no doubt that you and I would get through that and be happy together, but I could never ask you to give up your children. We never gave up trying to save Iris even after we failed. If I had another chance, I would jump at it.” His fingers interweave through her hair as he rests his hand at the base of her neck. "I don't love the idea of erasing myself, but if you and your children are happy, that’s enough for me. You’ll save me. You’ll save Amy. You might even find a way to save Iris and Lorena that we couldn’t.”

"But Rittenhouse..."

"You'll stop them.”

"You don't know that."

"I have faith."

She gazes up into his eyes. "Okay."

He squeezes her shoulder. "We should go get Wyatt then call Rufus and Jiya to figure out a plan.”

Lucy hovers in silence, unmoving, face to face with Garcia. "I’m not ready to go yet."

"I’ll stay here as long as you need."

Lucy leans into him. His arms surround her, and her head rests against his chest. Despite his faith, if she changes this timeline, there’s no guarantee that she’ll get Garia back, that she’ll ever feel this solid again. She closes her eyes and listens to his heartbeat, feels the rise and fall of his chest with every breath, absorbing the memory. If she never sees him again, at least she’ll hold onto this moment.


End file.
